School Daze
by Fallain
Summary: Sam-14, Dean-18. Had John ever hunted the Trickster? A new student enrolls in Sam and Dean's high school as their dad tracks a hunt back to the same town. Nothing is ever as it seems in High School, especially not for a Winchester. GabrielxSam SLASH
1. School Daze

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Supernatural or Angel Sanctuary. All OC's are made up within 2 seconds and any resemblance to any person living or fake is coincidental. Except the teachers. I may have refenced a few of my more memorable teachers from back in my own high school days. Hoggard High and other places mentioned are based off real locations but I still don't own anything to do with any of them.

Warnings: yaoi SLASH GabrielxSam

Notes: Sam is 14, Dean is 18. This is an idea I had based off John Winchester's journal. (By Alex Irvine) He has a few notes about the Trickster in it that made me think that maybe he'd had an encounter with him before. But there weren't any details so I made my own up. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: School Daze

Sam Winchester heaved his heavy backpack over his shoulder and trudged in the light rain after his older brother Dean. The cool water hitting his face and slowly dampening his clothing. Dean's hands were shoved into his heavy leather jacket that had once belonged to their dad since he had stopped bringing books to whichever school they were attending at the moment, or any previous school for the past year.

The unlucky high school that the young traveling hunters attended at the moment was John T. Hoggard High, home of the Vikings in Wilmington, NC. Dean cast a backwards glance at his little brother, ruffling one hand through his own short hair to make the spikes stand back up after the rain had soaked them down. Sam knew that look; the look that said Dean was worried about him, but not so much that he'd make it vocal. He'd just check up on him every half a minute by peeking at him nonchalantly until he was satisfied that his little Sammy wasn't going to go into 'mope mode'.

Honestly, Sam was just happy that Dean was here. He'd just started high school as a freshman, right as Dean was finishing his as a senior. The age difference was unfair. Because of the four year gap Sam hadn't been able to spend any of middle school with Dean and as a result Dean acted like a mother hen, racing to Sam's school after his own got out to walk him home, barging him with questions about how his day was and if there was anyone whose ass needed a good old fashioned Winchester kicking.

But that'd all be over soon. Even though Dean joked about failing so he could spent an extra year going to high school with Sam and checking out all the fine illegal ladies without being considered a pervert, Sam knew that Dean would either graduate this year, or he'd drop out and get his GED. Their dad wasn't wasting any extra time with them in school and had made it quite clear that he wanted Dean fully in the family business before he turned 19 - high school diploma or not. Besides, what poltergeist cared about diplomas? It's not like they'd ever walk into a haunted house and just announce they had straight A's and hope the spirit used to be a school principal and would be so proud it'd stop haunting people.

They finally reached the stairs to the cafeteria and Sam shook his wet bangs from side to side like a dog after a bath, shrugging his backpack back onto his shoulder once again and letting out a deep sigh.

Dean gave him one more second glance before throwing on a cocky grin and nodding a good-bye. His boots squeaked across the linoleum flooring as he walked over to his current girlfriend of the week, a tall ginger girl with hair to her waist and freckles covering her face below her dark brown eyes. There was no telling what tastes Dean had in girls. It seemed like he was making a personal goal to collect kisses and other un-mentionable things from every different hair color, eye color, cliché he could find. Last week had been a blonde from a group of Goths, her blue eyes heavy with black eye shadow. And the week before that a shy Asian with glasses that defied her geek appearance by being a cheerleader. Sam didn't even know the current ginger's name, but she was dressed in a sporty stoner way, as if to tell the world she'd just rolled out of bed and threw on her comfiest clothes that weren't PJs.

Sam found a seat by the window, the rain coming down harder now and blanketing the shatter-proof glass making the world outside look distorted and blurry like it was under a waterfall. He debated for a second about going through the narrow lines to get breakfast, but decided against it for lack of energy to get up and make his way over. He knew he'd need it to get this low energy up later for gym class, but since it was raining they'd be forced to stay indoors and how much exercise could they get indoors? Not enough to make Sam debate anymore about getting out of this spot and he folded his arms on the table and used them as a damp pillow, resting his head on them and relaxing until the bell for 1st period rang.

He never saw the new student walk in, surprisingly dry for someone who just walked through a thunderstorm to get to the safety of inside the school from the bus ramp. The kid's olive green eyes found the young Winchester, slumped forward on the cafeteria table and let a smirk fall across his lips.

SPN SPN SPN

Sam sat in 1st period Algebra towards the back of the room, near the door. His middle-aged teacher Mr. Christener was rambling on something about his dog Baxter grading their tests from yesterday and in the past few weeks that Sam had been here he'd been slowly growing more and more positive that Baxter was imaginary and Mr. Christener was just a very lonely and possibly insane man.

His jacket hung on the back on his chair as he copied fractions off the white board, resisting the urge to lay his head down on the desk and fall back asleep like he had in the cafeteria. His resistance was fueled by the reminder that Mr. Christener was indeed most likely mentally unstable and liked to sit on the floor next to sleeping students and stare and whisper their name over and over until they finally woke up. A tactic that left the student feeling un-nerved the rest of the day as if someone were constantly watching them. Besides, he'd be able to sleep through English. His pregnant teacher Mrs. Mott was so far along that in-between the morning sickness and the mood swings, she didn't care what the students did as long as they were quiet and he'd be able to catch another nap through her class.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the principal knocking on the polished, wooden door and poking his shiny, bald head into the classroom, his deep, gentle voice calling Mr. Christener out into the hallway.

When he returned, a kid about Sam's own age followed him into the classroom. He stood about Sam's height, probably a little shorter thanks to the recent growth spurt he'd been having. He had brown hair with a dark ginger tint to it that had long bangs to his chin and parted down the middle framing the face and short in the back, spiking out in a hairstyle that Sam was pretty sure he'd only seen on girls. His olive green eyes had flecks of brown in them that almost changed their color in the right light and seemed to penetrate Sam's own hazel eyes that could never seem to decide between green or brown themselves. Some people even swore his eyes were blue and he remembered how Dean had put an end to the debate by deciding that Sam's eyes were like a mood ring, and mocked surprise every time Sam would pout and tell him they'd just turned blue. They hadn't of course - but it put an end to Sam's constant staring into the mirror trying to figure out what color his eyes were.

"Class, this is Gaybe Norsen. He's new to our class." Mr. Christeners eyes met with Sam's, sharing the same thought of 'another new student this month?' He turned to write Gaybe's name on the white board with a green pen and several students immaturely snickered and whispered "Gaaaaaaay. Be. Be. Gay." mocking the poor kids name. Sam rolled his eyes and Gaybe toke a seat a few rows over next to the windows. He felt bad for the ginger kid to automatically get made fun of on account of his name - which he had no control over, but surely it didn't help to have a girly haircut and jeans that tight. Sam shook his head away from Gaybe's tight jeans and the black converse that peeked out at the bottom and looked like someone had drawn over the few white spots on the shoes with sharpies. He had a tight faded grey Star Wars shirt on and Sam found himself wanting to talk to him once class was over just to have someone to talk to about his favorite nerdy movies that Dean refused to admit he liked. Besides, with the way things were going so far it sounded like he'd need a friend. And Sam needed one too.

Not that it'd matter. In a couple of weeks, or maybe even less, their dad would be back and they'd be up and onto a new town and new school and he'd probably never seen Gaybe again. Just like Barry. He sighed wondering how Barry was and let his gaze wander back to the white board where Mr. Christener was writing out and explaining the radius and circumference of circles. He never even noticed olive eyes turning and staring back at him.

SPN SPN SPN

Sam hadn't had a chance to talk to Gaybe, the kid was quick and got from his seat to the door faster than Sam could blink - he'd almost swear that he had teleported or had Scotty beam him up. After a not-so-peaceful sleep in Mrs. Mott's class and a harsh thump on the shoulder from Dean followed by a shrug and a look that plainly said 'Well pay attention and wave to your big bro when you see him and maybe next time I won't have to hit you,' Sam headed into the large gymnasium for P.E.

The rain still poured down outside, making itself known through the windows above the bleachers and the humming of the water hitting the rooftop in a thrumming metallic sound. The gym teachers had opted to set up the volleyball nets in the middle of the gym so Sam heaved a sigh of relief that it wasn't dodge ball or basketball. Just volleyball, a sport that unless your playing against people who actually care and know how to play, you just stand around and stare at the ball as it comes towards you, hoping to deflect it to another unlucky student before it beans you in the face.

Sam stood out against some of the other students in his jeans, wearing the light blue t-shirt uniform but refusing to wear the dark blue uniform shorts. But as long as he was in a t-shirt and sneakers the couches let him participate so there was no reason to humiliate himself by showing off his skinny legs. No one wore shorts in his family and he wasn't about to be the first to start. It was too dangerous to run through the woods or abandoned houses in anything that didn't completely cover you to protect from branches, rusty nails or whatever claws the enemy had.

The only other person not wearing shorts was Gaybe who was suddenly right next to Sam completely invading his personal space and Sam allowed himself a shocked step backwards at the sudden appearance of the new ginger kid.

Gaybe simply shrugged. "Coach said he didn't have time to dig out a uniform for me today." His voice was casual, as if him not being in gym uniform was the reason Sam was so shocked to see him standing there. "You're in my algebra class." It was a statement, not a question.

Sam nodded and Gaybe mimicked his action as if mocking him. Sam tilted his head, and Gaybe did the same. Yep, defiantly mocking him.

"Why are you doing that?" He asked.

"Doing what?" Gaybe kept his head titled and smirked, not even flinching when the coach's whistle sounded loudly across the gym.

"Aulrighty kiddos, to your positions for warm-ups!" Couch Gayle announced as the students filed to one side of the classroom. "Winchester! Grab your stuff and head to the office, you've just been checked out."

Sam's mind blanked out for a second before his feet started to move back towards the locker room, ignoring the 2nd whistle sounding as everyone started stretching out their muscles. He stopped and glanced backwards as a chill spread up his spine making him feel like he was being watched but when he looked back all he saw was everyone with their arms over their heads, pulling on their wrists.

He made it back to the locker room and threw open his door that he never bothered to keep a lock on, not noticing that it was hanging open an inch as if someone else had already opened it. He didn't even bother taking off his gym shirt as he quickly opened his locker and grabbed his book bag, a million reasons why he was being checked out of school racing through his mind.

Dean stood outside the attendance office waiting for him and gave him a slight nod of the head and he approached.

"What's going on Dean?"

Dean gave him a smile, the smile that lied when he told Sam everything was going to be ok when he was worried about something.

"Not much, dad is back in town and wants us back at the hotel."

"Is the hunt over?"

Dean paused looking thoughtful before shaking his head no and Sam let the conversation drop knowing that Dean didn't have anymore answers for him. Their dad never filled them in on more than they needed to know so the only thing that Dean probably knew was that dad was at the hotel and wanted them there ASAP.

The rain was still coming down as they walked out to the student parking lot where the Impala stood out from the rest of the cars in its sleek, black, classic beauty. Dad had given Dean the beloved car for his 18th birthday since it was the only thing he really could give Dean as a 'becoming a man' gift and even though the school was less than a block away from the motel, Dean insisted on driving the car everyday. Sam was really going to miss riding to school in it when Dean started going away on his own hunts after graduation. He was going to miss the leather smell of the interior that Dean was currently complaining about getting wet as they settled in and fastened their seatbelts, and mostly, he was going to miss the way Dean treated it better than any girlfriend he ever had. He was going to miss Dean period and he shut off the emotional pain that he'd been having constricting in his chest every time he thought of Dean going away.

SPN SPN SPN

They arrived at the motel within minutes but longer than it should have taken thanks to other driver's inability to drive over 30mph while roads were wet even though the speed limit itself was only 45. John's big, black Chevy truck was parked in front of their room, the arsenal in the trunk completely hidden from anyone who didn't already know of its location.

Dean walked in first, making a big show of shaking the water out of the Impala's keys and hanging the leather jacket in the shower to dry as he wiped the dripping water off of it with a towel, to show John that he was taking good care of his car and jacket in case he ever had any 2nd thoughts and debated taking either away from his oldest son.

Sam simply dropped his bag on the floor before peeling his own tan jacket off and dropping it to the soggy pile next to the door. John didn't look up at either of them, simply kept rifling through the papers that lay around the motel room that hadn't been there when they had left for school this morning.

Dean came back into the room breaking the silence. "Yo dad, the hunt over already?"

John shook his head which perked Sam's curiosity and he sat down on his bed, which was conviently not the one covered with papers. John never came back without finishing a hunt, and he never toke a break. Ever since his boys were old enough to fend for themselves without John having to check in on them everyday he'd drop them off in one town close to a school and then go a few towns over for a hunt so that it'd be safer in case anything he was hunting tried to go after him and follow him home or to keep Sam and Dean out of any accidently cross-fire or keep them from becoming potential targets. A million different reasons why John tried to keep his hunts far from his boys. It didn't make sense for him to be here now.

"The damned thing moved. I tracked it back here." John let another paper drop to the floor as he considered it useless, clearly agitated that it had moved to the town his sons were in, placing them in potential danger that he had tried to keep them out of this time.

"Figure out what it is yet?" Sam asked, remembering that his dad had only a few leads to go on when he left for the hunt, but enough strong details that there was something that needed to be stopped a few hours away in Greeneville, North Carolina.

John simply shook his head. If he had any ideas on what it was when he left, or what it was now that he tracked it back here, the only person he was sharing with was his journal. Sam hated the need to know basis that he kept them on. Now that he was here they could help out, not that Sam wanted to, but he wouldn't even hint at what they were up against. What if it found them and they needed to protect themselves? They'd be screwed. And all thanks to John's closed off thought process.

But for something to escape their dad and make him re-track it, and the way he shuffled through the mountains of computer print-outs, faxes from Bobby and probably either Jim or Caleb, and newspapers, whatever it was, it had him unnerved and on edge. There was a sawed off shotgun lying across his lap and Sam didn't fail to notice the salt laying across the doorway and windows.

Sam leaned out of his chair to grab a discarded newspaper lying on the floor. The date read June 10th, less than a week ago and had a large photo of a closed off crime scene on the front page, with pictures of two college guys that had apparently been found dead outside of their dorms. The two guys, Malcolm Sweeny and Peter Monroe had been previously arrested for drugging a girl's drink at a party with PCP and then pretended their dorm was haunted in order to get the girl close to them when she got scared. However their plan backfired when the girl started hallucinating and jumped out the window - killing herself.

Apparently Malcolm and Peter felt guilty and jumped off their own dorm building the week after they were released for the prosecutor not being able to find any hard evidence to pin on them to keep them in custody. But if dad had kept this newspaper, it meant he thought it had something to do with the supernatural. There must be something more to the story, something that made them jump or perhaps even chased them over the edge.

There was a silence in the room as all three Winchesters were silent, thinking about the case.

Dean stayed up late, checking the ammunition and cleaning the weapons while John continued flipping through the files. He hadn't spoken since they'd first arrived hours ago, surprising Sam by not asking him to do research. He knew his dad was really worried if he was going so far to keep Sam out of the loop to keep him safe that he wasn't even asking him to look anything up online in case he risked letting his son know anymore than the grisly details he'd found in the newspaper John had carelessly left on the floor.

Sam curled up under the covers, letting his eyes droop shut, watching his brother clean the bullet clips and being lulled to sleep by the steady repetitive motions of his hands as they worked over the lethal metal. Dean never had to even do anything, just be in the same room, to make Sammy feel safe as he drifted off to sleep.

SPN SPN SPN

The next morning Sam woke to the smell of coffee and dark circles under his dad's eyes making him wonder if the eldest Winchester had slept at all the previous morning. Dean was sprawled out across the bed on top of both the covers and the papers John had been trying to read and still fully dressed even down to his boots.

John, noticing Sam waking up nodded to Dean. "He just passed out a few hours ago. I'm going to keep him here to help me..." He trailed off before adding as an after thought. "Need a ride to school?"

Sam shook his head declining but John shook his as well. "Nah, I'll give you a ride. Get yourself ready."

He sighed, remembering that whatever hunt his dad was on had him worried. Drill Sergeant or not, he was still his dad and Sam was still his baby boy. John probably had a list of things that could happen to Sam walking to school on a normal day much less a day that was being stalked by an unknown supernatural entity making that list multiply.

But Sam hated riding in the truck with his dad. He'd practically grown up in the Impala so the Truck's interior felt foreign and wrong to him. Plus his dad liked to use it as a cage to trap Sam in for uncomforble conversations so that Sam wouldn't be able to get angry and storm out halfway through. Although more than once he thought about just opening the door and rolling out of the moving vehicle just to get away from the heated debate. Surely a few scratches and broken ribs would be worth it.

A few minutes after the truck started moving and pulled out of the motel parking lot it started.

"So. How's school." John rarely asked questions and just formed everything as a statement, a demand, leaving no options to say no.

"Fine." If his dad wasn't willing to share any information, neither was Sam.

"How are your grades."

"Good." Sam answered even though the voice in his head wanted to argue why did John care about his grades?

"Make any friends?"

Sam instantly thought of Gaybe but glared at his dad out of the corner of his eye instead. "No. What's the point? We'll be gone soon." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them and remind himself he was only giving his dad one-word answers this morning. John must have picked up on the teenage malice in his voice however because he was silent the rest of the ride and didn't even say bye or have a nice day as most parents would when Sam jumped out of the truck's cab, slamming the door behind him.

He briskly walked into the cafeteria, missing the absence of his older brother beside him and hating the feeling in his gut that he got when he had to remind himself that he'd have to get used to that feeling for the remaining three years of high school.

Slinging his backpack onto the same table he'd sat at yesterday with a loud thump by the windows, that he always sat at, he glanced up at the clock in the corner. He'd been so busy trying to sneak a look at what his dad was up to and running to the store to try and get Dean to eat something in-between polishing knives that he had forgotten his algebra homework. For some reason when he'd left early, the knowledge that he wouldn't have any biology homework for missing that class overwrote the fact that he still had algebra homework to finish for Mr. Christener's imaginary dog to grade.

He had time to get at least half of it done, which was better than nothing so he unzipped the giant blue fabric and went to dig out the massive textbook. His hands met something soft, like cotton fabric at the bottom and he gripped the item, pulling it out.

In his hand he held Gaybe's Star Wars shirt that he had been wearing yesterday. How the hell had that gotten in there? He thought back to when he was leaving yesterday to how his locker had been open. Maybe Gaybe had mistaken their lockers on his first day here? But theres no way he would have mistaken his book bag too since he remembered Gaybe had a black messenger bag. And wasn't he wearing this very shirt in gym class yesterday because the coach didn't have time to get him a uniform before the bell rang? Sam stared at the t-shirt in his grasp not understanding in the slightest how it came into his possession. None of the facts made any sense and it made his head feel jumbled just trying to think about it.

"Is that my shirt?"

Sam jumped and looked up to see Gaybe sitting down across from him and grabbing the fabric from him.

"It iiiiiiis my shirt. I wondered where it went." Gaybe's voice rang out in a sing song tune that made it seem like he hadn't really wondered where his shirt vanished to. He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. "Did you steal it?"

Sam sputtered. "Wha? What, no, of course I didn't! I don't know how it got there..."

"You're not a very good thief you know." Gaybe waved one finger in the air as if telling off a four year old for trying to eat a Lego. "You shouldn't have brought it back."

"But I didn't steal it! It just appeared in my book bag!" Sam protested.

"Right, right, because things just appear out of nowhere." Gaybe bit his bottom lip smiling, as if he was trying to hold back a laugh and he pressed the clothing article to his face and inhaled. "Mmmm it smells like you now."

Sam gaped, fully aware that his mouth was hanging open.

"Dude. That's weird."

Gaybe let out a laugh and Sam found himself liking the way he laughed. It sounded genuine, warm and friendly and calmed him although he still thought it was full out weird that a guy he'd barely met was sniffing a t-shirt because it spent the night in his backpack.

Glancing back at the clock Sam realized he'd stalled far too long and finished pulling his books out of his backpack that now held only his own possessions. Gaybe across from him plopped his own messenger bag onto the table and pulled out a manga while Sam worked.

He couldn't keep his hazel eyes from flickering up to the ginger brunette across from him absorbed in the Japanese comic and found himself trying to make light conversation that wouldn't distract him too much from his work.

"What're you reading?"

Gaybe looked up, flipping the paper back book closed to show Sam the cover.

"Angel Sanctuary."

"Is it interesting?" He asked as his eyes skimmed the line of numbers down the page in front of him of common denominators.

Gaybe sighed and rolled his olive eyes. "Yeees and its bullshit. Look at this." He put the manga down on top of Sam's work and tapped a picture of a women sitting in a chair in the middle of a black and white garden. "That's Jibril."

"Neat?" Sam raised an eyebrow wishing he'd get his book off his textbook. He only had 15 minutes left before 1st period.

Gaybe huffed, irritated. "It's supposed to be Gabriel. But the loony author made him a girl and calls it Jibril! Can you believe that? And she made Michael a midget! A Raphael a womanizer! Can you believe that?" He threw the offending book over his shoulder, not caring if it hit anyone or not. It landed with a loud plopping noise and lay open on the floor. Gaybe snickered. "Actually it's kind of funny...high and mighty Michael a midget...pfffffffffffft. But really...Gabriel a girl? Really?" He raised both his eyebrows and looked at Sam with what must be the kicked puppy dog expression Dean always mocked him for having.

"Well..." Sam looked back and forth between Gaybe's puppy eyes, the clock and his forgotten textbook. He chose Gaybe. "There's lots of lore that says Gabriel WAS the female arch angel."

"Yea well there's lots of lore that's bullshit."

Sam smiled at Gaybe's expression that changed from puppy left in the rain, to dejected puppy when mom brings home a new kitty as he continued to mutter obscenities about bullshit, the bible and cracked out Japanese novelists.

"Gaybe...hey, wait. Gaybe. Gaybe...riel? Were you named after the arch angel Gabriel?" Sam toke a guess at why a 14 year old would be offended by something as trivial as this.

Gaybe looked like he was about to say something but merely shut his mouth and grinned at Sam like the Cheshire cat and looking highly amused with himself.

The bell rang and Sam jumped up scrambling to shove all his work back into his bag muttering 'crap crap crap' over and over again. He looked up after successfully, and haphazardly, managing everything back inside even if the zipper wouldn't zip closed to see if Gaybe wanted to accompany him to class.

Except Gaybe was gone.

He stopped to scoop up the fallen manga Gaybe had earlier thrown, thinking that it was probably a library rental so he should return it even if its owner didn't seem to care and toke off to algebra class.

He walked into class, expecting to see Gaybe by the window so he could return the book but he was missing. Maybe he'd stopped by the bathroom?

But Gaybe didn't show at all during class.

Mr. Christener started walking around collecting everyone's homework and Sam dug out his wrinkled papers, still figuring that something was better than nothing, even if he only had a few questions finished.

However when he smoothed out the papers he had to take a double take. Flipping the papers back and forth, looking at both sides.

Both sides that were completely filled out and by the looks of it, 100% correct. When had he done this? He didn't have time to marvel it as it was pulled out of his grasp by the aging teacher and was left to sit there the rest of the class period, looking at Gaybe's empty seat and wondering if he was loosing his mind.

End Chapter 1

This was originally going to be a one shot but I got more into it than I thought I would and I'd like to flesh it out better so it'll have another chapter or 2 coming up. Although I'm sure you've all already figured out who Gaybe Norsen is and what John is hunting.


	2. Dance Magic Dance

Warnings: oh hay, light yaoi and sexually confused teen angst ahead. SLASH GabrielxSam

Chapter 2: Dance Magic Dance

Sam closed his locker door in the gym's locker room, making sure to latch it carefully shut this time even though he hadn't seen Gaybe around all day since breakfast. He had never shown up for algebra class and even though they didn't have 2nd period together, all of the freshmen classes were in the same hallway and he hadn't seen the spiked ginger hair bobbing anywhere amongst the other heads. The manga was still carefully tucked away in his book bag and if he didn't see Gaybe again by the end of the day he'd just assume it belonged to the library and go return it before he left school for the day.

Two of his gym classmates, Avery and Jonah, were hushed together in a corner beside the door talking quickly. They seemed excited but with worried, maybe even scared expressions on their faces and their eyes flickered nervously around the room as if they held a secret. Sam brushed his long brunette bangs out of his face and headed to the gym. They were probably just waiting for the locker room to be empty enough to get high or meet up with someone for some pills, but as he got closer he could hear bits of their rushed, quiet conversation.

"On the goal -"

"Inside?"

"No no, outside. Why we're staying in today."

"But that's crazy, it's fake."

"Like a bomb threat?"

"Worse..."

"When?"

"1st period man"

Sam shook his head, pushing open the door into the fluorescent lighting in the blue and white tiled hallway when he was pushed backwards back into the room. Avery and Jonah looked up, surprised that someone else was in the room besides the dark blue lockers lining the walls and rushed out into the hallway to get away from prying eyes.

Gaybe smirked at Sam, a lollipop dangling past his lips, and he noticed that Gaybe stood slightly taller than Sam so that he had to look up into those green eyes. Weird, he could have sworn they were the same height yesterday...maybe Gaybe was going through a quick growth spurt as well.

"Hey, Gaybe." He ignored the fact the Gaybe's hand was still clutched around Sam's arm from where he'd pushed him back into the locker room. "Where were you 1st period?" Something about the sentence reminded him of the conversation Avery and Jonah had been having seconds ago and he hoped he imagined the guilty look that flashed through Gaybe's eyes.

"I had to see the counselor; I had issues with my classes."

Sam nodded. That was perfectly believable on the 2nd day of class in a new school. He suddenly felt stupid for worrying so much.

As if reading his mind Gaybe smirked. "Why? Were you worried about me?"

Sam faked a smile and rolled his eyes in response. He didn't want to admit he was worried to anyone. Winchesters didn't worry. Just something about the ginger's absence had sent chills up his spine and an off feeling in his gut, like something was wrong.

Gaybe let go of his arm just so he could punch him lightly below the shoulder. "Anyways, I lost my phone. Help me look for it?"

Sam looked back at the door, realizing that they were now the only ones in the locker room, the rest of the class already in the gym, waiting for the coach's orders.

"I dunno Gaybe, the bell is about to ring..."

Gaybe lifted his eyebrows into what would have been a pleading puppy expression if his cocky smirk wasn't still in place and Sam felt himself cave, unable to say no just like how he had been distracted in the cafeteria earlier that morning.

"Fine fine..." He muttered and looked around the empty tiled room. There was a black book bag against a locker, a few t-shirts and socks lying around but no sign of a cell phone anywhere.

"What color is it?"

"Bright orange. Can't miss it."

The idea of Gaybe having a brightly colored orange phone didn't surprise Sam at all as he kicked over the dirty discarded shirts to check underneath them. No phone. He bent down to look under the wooden bench in the middle of the room. Nope. Why would Gaybe's phone be anywhere in here anyways? Hadn't he just walked in while Sam was trying to leave?

"Are you sure it's in here?"

Gaybe looked thoughtful for a second, putting a finger to his bottom lip and tilting his head.

"Can you try calling it?" Gaybe asked as he walked back to Sam. As Sam toke out his own ordinary silver phone, Gaybe toke it away from him and punched in a few numbers, waiting for it to connect and ring.

After a few seconds they could hear 'Dance Magic Dance' by David Bowie start playing from down the hallway behind the lockers where the showers were lined up, covered in long white curtains. Gaybe grabbed Sam's wrist and dragged him back to where they could hear the lines 'you remind me of the babe, what babe? Babe with the power.' In his head it sounded almost like it was saying 'You remind me of the Gaybe...Gaybe with the power. Dance magic dance. Put that baby's spell on me...'

Sam didn't protest being pulled to the last shower, where a small bright orange flip phone waited for its owner in the middle of the floor. Once he got there his mind started working again, wondering when and why Gaybe had been back in this shower and why he had brought him along. He didn't have much time to ponder the answers as he was shoved up against the slightly wet tiles of the shower, his body trapped tightly between Gaybe's body and the tiles, and Gaybe's lips dangerously close to his ear, his warm breath hitting Sam's neck.

He put his hands on Gaybe's shoulders in an attempt to push him off.

"What are you doing?"

Gaybe looked at him innocently, but with a different look deep in his olive eyes. Calculating? As if he was waiting to see what the next move would be in a game of chess.

"Your brother likes gingers doesn't he? I saw him with that girl yesterday..." Gaybe lowered his head to Sam's neck, his lips brushing over the soft flesh as Sam squirmed underneath him.

Sam had never had a problem fighting anyone off before. Years of marine based training in hand-to-hand combat such as shoulin kempo and judo made Sam a fearsome opponent against anyone no matter the size or age. But for some reasons he felt powerless against Gaybe as he struggled to push him off, his feet slipping out from under him on the wet tiles and sending him crashing to the floor.

Gaybe was on him in an instant, straddling him against the wall, his elbows on each of Sam's shoulders, his forearms resting beside Sam's head where his brown hair stuck out all over the place in its chaotic mess of curls.

"Do you like gingers too?" Gaybe whispered in his ear, his olive eyes lidded and seductive as he pinned down the youngest Winchester.

"I don't swing that way!" Sam practically growled in frustration that the kid whom he thought would be his friend, probably his only friend in this school, had only seeked him out as a sexual interest. He wasn't like Dean; he didn't see a point in starting any relationships with anyone, regardless of their gender, somewhere that he wasn't going to stay for more than a few weeks. And he certainty wasn't into guys. At least that's what his mind kept trying to scream to his body, which was feeling quite content with Gaybe's lean body pressed against it, involuntarily quickening his breath.

Part of him wanted to scream out for Gaybe to get the hell off of him and part of him yearned for his touch. Gaybe complied as if he could read his mind, slowly easing one arm off the wall to run down Sam's cheek to his neck and then down his shoulders and collarbone until his hand rested in-between their bodies, feeling the rhythm of Sam's quick heartbeat against his palm. He closed his eyes as if he were thoroughly enjoying it and Sam toke the moment he had his guard down to surprise him by managing to throw him off.

He dislodged himself from under Gaybe as soon as he felt the weight lift from the forceful shove and darted out of the shower, throwing the curtain back to run into the hallway.

Except when he threw open the curtain, he found himself looking right back inside the same shower. Gaybe now standing and leaning against the wall, arms crossed and watching Sam's actions like a cat watching a mouse. Sam spun around again and no matter how many times he ripped open the shower curtain he still found himself surrounded by the same slick tiles until he finally ripped he curtain entirely off its hinges and found himself trapped in a room of four tiled walls with no exit. Even the gap that was usually between the ceiling and the shower walls was closed off with white and blue checkers and Sam felt a sick feeling brewing in his stomach as David Bowie's lyrics floated through his mind again.

'Remind me of the Gaybe, what Gaybe? Gaybe with the power...dance magic dance...'

"Relax Sammy...I just want to talk."

Sam flinched at the nickname he reserved for Dean's use only. "Just talk? What do you call this then?" He spread his arms out, motioning to the walls around him. "And what did you call...that...earlier?" He spat out, ghosts of the feel of Gaybe's hands and body on him floating over him and making him shudder. Wither it was in pleasure, fear or disgust...he didn't know.

"Ok so I ah...I talk with my hands sometimes." He grinned and waved his fingers at Sam who merely glared back, his back literally against a wall. Gaybe's expression suddenly grew serious.

"I know you're a hunter Sam."

The cold wrenching feeling in Sam's gut was back and multiplied by a hundred as puzzle pieces slid into place. Gaybe had transferred here the same day his dad had tracked some monster back to this town. His ability to seemingly appear and vanish into thin air and the way he manipulated objects and places...but none of the pieces added up to anything Sam had ever heard of before. Damn his dad. This was exactly why he hated it when he didn't share any information with them. This could have been avoided if he'd just known what to look out for, he may have even been able to tell it was Gaybe earlier and his dad could be here right now killing this thing. Killing...Gaybe. Suddenly Sam felt a fear for Gaybe, whatever he was. Being on the opposite side of John Winchester in a lethal fight was as good as a death sentence and he found himself unexplainable depressed as a image of his own dad pulling a silver bullet through Gaybe's head burst into his mind, those gorgeous green eyes devoid of all light and life that they seemed to always gleam with.

"What are you?" Sam swallowed a lump in his throat, wishing for the silver butterfly knife in his back pack that was in his locker, only a few feet away if only he weren't trapped in this shower.

Gaybe waved his finger. "That's not of import." He stepped up to Sam who tried to back even farther into the wall until they were right back in their original positions.

Sam put out his hands, to attempt to stop Gaybe's advances. "You killed those college kids in Greeneville."

Gaybe's face was serious but his eyes danced with satisfied amusement. "They deserved it."

Sam's anger started overtaking his reason again. "Oh yeah? What'd they do? I read the newspaper, they didn't deserve to die...no humans deserve to die!" He yelled, his voice bouncing and echoing off the walls around them.

"I didn't kill them." Sam scoffed so Gaybe continued. "All I did, was infect them with the same hallucinations that poor girl had. They ran off the roof on their own accord. All I did was put the pieces into play."

"Is this just some kind of sick game to you?" Sam pushed harder against Gaybe, wishing he'd at least act like he was struggling against Sam instead of standing there calmly as if Sam was just a kitten were climbing up his leg. Sam looked up at the creature, trying to put on a brave front despite the frantic beating of his heart, and realized he seemed to be yet again, even taller. Was this thing growing as they were talking?

He nodded looking off to the side and shrugged. "Yea. Kind of. I like to think of it more as...karma."

Sam was close to his limit. "You can't BE karma! Humans aren't toys!"

Gaybe smirked and leaned close to Sam, looking him in the eyes.

"Sweetheart, I can be whatever I want."

With that he closed to gap between them easily, one hand wrapped around the back of Sam's neck and the other resting on his hip as Sam's own hands were still firmly pressed against Gaybe in both an attempt to push him away and protect himself.

Sam's hands loosened their grip as Gaybe's lips crashed down on his own without a second's hesitation or the slightest warning. He tightened his fingers back, gripping the fabric of the ginger creature's shirt as Gaybe deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past his lips and inside of Sam's mouth. He tasted sweet, like cotton candy and left him feeling dizzy and rushed as if on a sugar high as he body literally swooned. Gaybe pressed himself to Sam harder, holding him upright against the wall as he left out a soft moan into his mouth and broke the kiss to run soft kisses down Sam's neck, flicking his tongue out over the soft flesh as he worked his way down.

Sam leaned his head back, arching his back against Gaybe and pressing into him, aching for more and letting a pleasured whimper escape his throat. One hand snaked its way from his shoulder to let it's shaking fingers slip through the spiked dark ginger hair as Gaybe gently sucked on his neck, his tongue massaging the vein which would surely leave a hickey.

A hickey. Sam's thoughts suddenly slammed back into him bringing him back to reality. A hickey. A sexual bruise that Dean and his dad would see. Would ask questions about. A hickey that came from a creature that his dad was currently hunting. That came from making out with a supernatural being in the form of a GUY. John would flip on the shit hitting the fan switch faster than the speed of light if he found out about this and the sickening realization of what he was doing forced his mind to take over his body once more and jerk away from Gaybe.

He had to get out of here. He had to get out of here and get back to the motel as quick as he could. If Dean came and picked him up from school today he didn't know what he'd do. He could almost hear Dean's taunting voice, that wouldn't take a hickey as serious as his dad would. He could almost hear the pride Dean would have thinking his little brother was finally taking after him and sneaking off with girls during class to suck on each others necks.

Then he could hear Dean's shocked, maybe even angry voice, if Sam ever told him that 1. It was from a guy or/and 2. It was from a monster. A monster in the form of an attractive pale, ginger haired boy with an unexplainable alluring charisma and enchanting green eyes but a male monster none the less.

He was so lost in his thoughts it was almost as if he could hear Dean. Dean's voice calling his name, echoing off the walls. Booted footsteps walking along tile...wait...getting closer. That was Dean's voice, that really was Dean's voice and he was in the locker room, looking for Sam.

Panic suddenly seized Sam as his eyes locked onto Gaybe's who was sitting on the floor, looking at the wall where the curtain should have been and Dean would be getting closer to on the other side. Olive eyes lifted to meet his own and his mouth opened to say something before Sam threw himself down on top of him, covering his mouth with one hand and the other wrapping itself into the spiked hair to keep him from twisting his head away.

Gaybe's mouth moved silently against Sam's palm as he held him close and protectively before he toke the hint and fell still as they listened to Dean. Sam's heart hammered loudly against his chest and he prayed Dean wouldn't hear it beating. Why was Dean here? Why now of all times? His silent questions went unanswered as he barely dared to breathe, a mantra of protecting Gaybe running through his mind. Dean always had a weapon on him and Sam found himself fearing for the young creature's life once again. Dean would be just as deadly, if not more than John. Dean protected Sam with a vengeance that was rivaled by nothing else on this planet and that left the quirky Gaybe in a very compromising situation.

As Dean's footsteps died away Sam let himself breath again, slowly taking his hand away from Gaybe's mouth.

Gaybe looked up at him, a sad expression reflecting in those green orbs.

"Sam...Do you even want to be a hunter?" His expression held genuine sincerity and concern and left Sam speechless.

In the next instant, Sam was kneeling in an empty shower with a ripped off curtain next to him and dim lighting shining through the open doorway into the locker room.

SPN SPN SPN

"I was looking all over for you! The bimbo coach said you never showed for class! Dammit Sammy, you know to keep your phone on you when dad's on a hunt. And the hunt is in THIS town!"

Dean was pissed over the fact that he'd spent over half an hour searching the school for his little brother who their dad had sent to be brought home early for the 2nd day in a row. Sam grumbled over the fact that he was missing the 2nd Biology class in a row and his teacher Mr. Graham liked to torture students who missed his classes with pop questions that he knew didn't know the answer to just to embarrass them.

And even though Sam had his phone on him the whole time, it hadn't rang once. Probably muted by whatever Gaybe had done to them in the shower.

Gaybe...

"Do you even know what dad's hunting?" Sam asked quietly, feeling guilty for making his older brother worry and trying to keep his own voice calm although he wanted to yell about what an idiot dad was for leaving them in the dark about this hunt.

"No..." Dean's voice was quieter now too, as if he was also trying to calm himself. "But we know it's dangerous."

Sam leaned his head against the cool glass of the Impalas' windows, his jacket hiked up high around his neck to hide the offensive mark that he could feel forming a bruise there. His mind flitted to memories of how Gaybe's eyes shone and his twisted little charming smirk. Of how he tasted and his breath on his neck felt.

He shook himself away from the memories before they'd cause his body to have something else to hide from his brother that would be much harder to explain.

"How do you know it's dangerous?" Sam asked softly, not really wanting to know the answer.

Dean did a double take at his little brother before training his eyes back on the road as they pulled into the motel parking lot. He parked the car and killed the engine but made no move to get out as he carefully looked at Sam.

"Didn't you hear about what happened at the school?"

Flashes of Avery and Jonah's conversation slipped back to him from before his little shower escapade but he shook his head no. He still had no idea, what he had caught hadn't made any sense.

"They found one of the janitors impaled on the football goal post after 1st period. Vlad the Imapler style. That sound dangerous enough for you to keep your phone on?"

Sam felt sick to his stomach and threw open the passenger side door seconds before involuntarily emptying his stomach onto the asphalt beneath him. Dean was by his side in a heartbeat, a gentle hand on his back trying to get the unwanted images of the dead janitor out of his baby brother's mind as he retched his stomach out onto the ground, bucking underneath the bile that rose up in his throat.

Gaybe had missed 1st period...and now Sam knew what he had been doing. Guilt overwhelmed him that he had hidden the monster and kept him safe from Dean's wrath right after he had ruthlessly murdered a helpless human being and he fought to keep down his own stomach acids after everything that had been in his stomach was now in a puddle in the parking lot.

Dean eased him out of the classic car, and wrapped an arm around his shorter siblings shoulder to let him lean against him as he practically carried him into the motel room.

John had been pacing inside, looking up with a furious glint in his eyes that his sons had taken so long to get back. Sam swallowed and tasted the disgusting bile, feeling light headed. Gaybe had asked him if he wanted to be a hunter...and in all honesty he didn't. His dad and Dean both knew that. All Sam wanted was a normal life but with monsters like Gaybe running around killing people that wasn't possible. He was going to have to make up his mistake that he made when he kept quiet from Dean by telling his dad about Gaybe. Then his dad could go end him and the world would be a slightly better place.

Somehow the idea of Gaybe being the one dead instead of the janitor made Sam feel even sicker and he felt a familiar burning sensation behind his hazel eyes that made his throat prickle as he fought back tears.

John looked hesitantly at Sam as if he was debating if he wanted to say anything in front of him before speaking anyways.

"Dean, you remember that janitor." Once again it was a statement, not a question. John knew full well that there's no way his oldest son would forget a murder that grisly less than an hour after they found it. Dean nodded; his grip tightening around Sam's shoulders, letting his little brother put all his weight onto him for support. "Well guess what they found in his storage room?"

"What?"

John looked hesitantly at Sam once again before continuing. "A human heart."

Sam literally felt the color drain from his face and Dean gently pushed him to sit down on the bed as John started pacing around the room talking to himself more than either of his sons, his hand on his chin deep in thought.

"Yeah...about a month ago a girl went missing after she stayed after school for detention. They never found her body but...in the janitor's storage they found a human heart in a jar along with vials of blood. Turns out the guy had just been hired and there were another 3 girls that went missing at his old school the exact same way. They found all kinds of nutso vampire books in his locker and everything. Guy found out he was a descendant from Transylvania and apparently thought that made him a vampire...like a relative of Vlad or something. The fictional Dracula kind, not the actual historic kind." He shook his head. "What a nut job...kind of ironic how he died..."

"Do you think he killed himself? I mean...if he thought he was a descendant of Vlad.."

John cut off Dean mid sentence. "Then he would have strung some poor girl up there. Besides, how would he have gotten up there in the first place?"

They were both silent, thinking about the crazy Transylvanian janitor and his bizarre untimely death. Neither John nor Dean noticed as Sam stood on shaky legs and slipped into the small bathroom.

Locking the door behind him Sam leaned on the sink, staring at his own reflection. His mirror image stared back, hazel eyes glossy from fighting back tears, and pale from the effort of heaving up all his food and leaving his body lacking nutrients and energy. His usually wavy hair fell lifeless around his face as if the strands themselves had been robbed of their energy to flip in awkward directions as well.

Gaybe was a monster. He knew that much. No...Not a monster. He couldn't think of him the same way he did a Wendigo or Rakshasha. He was a creature...not even that, that gave him more of a Werewolf or Rugarou feel...Gaybe was a supernatural being. There, that phrase seemed to fit the youthful ginger better. A supernatural being that was dangerous, defiantly very, very dangerous and lethal against logic and powerful against physics. He couldn't think of a single thing that matched that description, but then again, maybe it was because he'd hunted evil all his life and Gaybe wasn't evil. Twisted in the head and severely unhinged mentally to think of himself as walking, breathing karma itself and carried away in his ironic vengeance, but evil? He didn't think so. Did Gaybe deserve to be turned into his family and given a Winchester death sentence? Did the people he killed really deserve to die and did that make killing them ok?

He toke off his jacket and pulled the neck of his t-shirt away to get a good look at his neck in the mirror. Sure enough, there against his pale skin was a darkening purple bruise. Like you could see shapes in the clouds, Sam could almost swear the splotchy blood clots formed a small heart as a mark of what he and Gaybe did.

Sam felt himself shudder as his breath caught in his throat. His mind protested that he should tell his dad and Dean about Gaybe and run away to the nearest closest with whatever human girl would accompany him but his body and heart refused. His body grew hot and his heart physically hurt, wanting Gaybe to be here right now. He'd never felt anything like what he'd done to him in the empty shower and wanted more and part of him was scared that it was whatever voodoo Gaybe could work that was making him feel this way, that he'd put some kind of seductive spell on him.

Every logical thought in his mind told him it was wrong, but every nerve in his body responded, saying it didn't give a damn. Sam turned to the shower and turned on the cold water.

It was going to be a long night if he was going to figure out what was going on and what he was going to do about it.

End Chapter 2


	3. Here and There

Warnings: GabexSam SLASH and language. Sensitive subjects.

Chapter 3: Here and There

Sam woke the next morning, the red numbers on the alarm clock glaring 10:49am at him. His dad or Dean must have turned off the alarm and decided for him that he wasn't going back to school. Not back to that school anyways, not until they killed whatever it was that killed the janitor even if he was a few screws short of a tool box.

He rubbed his hazel eyes and blinked the sleep away, his eyesight still slightly blurry. His sleep last night was anything but restful as he tossed and turned, haunted by olive green, David Bowie, and warm caresses. He'd woken up more than once to see Dean sitting up, his worried watchful sight on his little brother, before switching into a more comfortable position and forcing himself back to sleep.

Now Dean was the only other person in the room, looking as exhausted as their dad had the previous morning and Sam wondered if he'd gotten any sleep last night since every time he'd woken up he was awake and quite frankly, he looked like shit.

"Dad?" Sam asked, not able to form coherent sentences so soon after waking up.

"Out to get breakfast." Dean replied, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache he was trying to force away. "God knows you need something back in you after you hurled all your food into the parking lot yesterday." He tried to smile reassuringly to his little brother but it came out more of a concerned grimace.

Sam mumbled an apology, hoping he hadn't gotten any on the Impala. Dean wouldn't be angry at him over it but he'd have to suffer through months of snide and grumpy remarks and glares about it regardless.

John came in through that door at that moment, a tray of coffee in one hand and a bag looped over his wrist full of what smelled like sausage biscuits. In his other hand was his cell phone which he had apparently just hung up.

"Just got off the phone with Caleb. He'd called Bobby and thinks he may know what we're up against." He said as he dropped the items on the table and handed out the coffee, his eyes not meeting Sams, knowing that his youngest son was most likely pissed about missing more school.

Sam didn't say anything and just accepted the coffee, bottling his emotions up inside as Dean asked their dad about Caleb and Bobby's suggestions.

"It's called a Trickster. Bobby swears its Loki but I seriously doubt that." John snorted, who was a firm believer that gods and goddesses didn't exist. "Either way it's a serious sonovabitch. These bastards can manipulate time, space and energy and their blood thirsty as hell."

Sam swallowed looking away; refusing to think of Gaybe as anything 'blood thirsty' even though the description thus far was matching up.

Dean had been shuffling through papers discarded all around the bed and picked one up to read off of.

"This says that they like 'just deserts'...which means they like paying back assholes? Oh, and apparently they like...just deserts too. Huh. Things gotta sweet tooth like Madonna's got a-"

John cut him off with a look and Dean cleared his throat, dismissing his inappropriate thoughts of the pop singer.

"Does that thing say how to kill them?" John asked his eldest son and the seconds seemed to stretch forever into hours as Sam watched Dean scan the page carefully and hoped that there was no way to kill him and they'd just have to give up and move on to the next town even though he knew deep down that John would never just give up, even if no one knew how to kill it, he'd find a way or die trying.

"Do you have to kill him?" Sam spoke up before Dean could find anything, both of the older hunters looking at the youngest as if he'd sprouted wings. Of course, if Gaybe was nearby it was quite likely that he had grown wings out of his back. Giant, glittery and bright orange probably and he unconsciously rubbed his shoulder to reassure himself that there was nothing growing out of him.

Dean's sarcasm beat John's anger. "Nah Sammy, we don't have to kill it. We can just invite it over for dinner and I'm sure it'll change its mind about shish-ka-bobbing people."

"Dean." John growled and the older brother quickly shut up at his father's unspoken orders. John turned and advanced on the youngest brunette. "Why the HELL wouldn't we kill IT." He emphasized the fact that the Trickster was an it, clearly pissed over the fact that Sam had given it a gender as if it were a person. He didn't know his youngest son was friends, maybe even more than friends, with the creature and even if he did he wouldn't understand or accept it. If anything it would just give the old hunter more of a reason to get the thing's head bloody on a silver platter.

"Well...maybe he's not evil." Sam called the Trickster a him again as a challenge and stared down his father. There was no chance in heaven or hell that he'd be able to convince him not to hunt Gaybe but he couldn't just sit by and say nothing.

"IT'S a MONSTER Sam! It shoved a pole so far up a guy's ass it came out the other end just for FUN! Does that sound like a sweet little faery to you?" John's voice boomed around them and Sam wondered how thick the walls were and what their neighbors thought they were talking about.

Dean let a grin slip onto his face. "Well, you could say he did it for _shits_ and giggles."

John and Sam both gave a Dean a disapproving stare, forcing Dean to merely clear his throat and pretend to look for something but shuffling through the papers. Now was apparently not the time for his sense of humor.

John however, had argued Sam into a corner where he knew he had no comeback. So instead he opted for storming out the door, despite the fact that he was still in his grey plaid pajama pants and one of Dean's old Black Sabbath shirts with no jacket or shoes in the brisk, chilly September air. His hereditary Winchester stubbornness refused to let him turn around and go back inside for either though. He couldn't storm out twice and have it have the same effect the 2nd time around and he wasn't going to give his dad another chance to bite his head off either.

He folded his arms across his chest to stop himself from shivering as the cold sidewalk bit at his toes.

He suddenly felt something large and warm drop around around his shoulders and blinked to see himself covered in a soft green fabric, someone's hoodie.

"Are you a freaking penguin or something?"

That voice. No. Nonononono he can't be here, he couldn't possibly be here. Sam spun around, panic in his throat and came face to face with Gaybe. He was here. He was freaking here, and here was the worst place possible for him to be.

Sam grabbed a hold of the Trickster's arm and toke off running for the side of the building, Gaybe running behind him without protest or confusion on his facial features as if they were just going for a leisurely jog through a park. That or he was quite used to and ok with being suddenly yanked around like a dog on a leash.

Sam found a small ally and slipped into it, Gaybe easily slipping in behind him so they barely had room to stand face to face, their bodies risking the close contact that they'd encountered less than a day ago and their warm breaths forming clouds in front of their faces from running in the cold.

Gaybe started pulling his hoodie further onto Sam to keep him warm and Sam smacked his hands away angrily.

"Why are you here?"

Dark olive eyes blinked at him.

"You weren't in school. I figured whatever was up would be more entertaining than sitting around in that heap of meat sacks listening to Mr. Christener talk about his imaginary dog - yes, it IS imaginary - so I came and found you." He smirked and let his eyes roam Sam from head to naked feet. "If I'd known you were only half dressed I would have gotten here sooner..." He let out a whistle and raised an eyebrow. "Do you sleep naked?"

"No!" Sam shook his head, keeping his mind on task of what was important instead of Gaybe's perverted fantasies. "You...you have to get out of here."

"Why?" Gaybe asked, suddenly sucking on a lollipop that hadn't been there a second ago and memories of how John had described the Trickster whipped through his mind. Sweet tooth. Blood thirsty. Dangerous. Powerful.

"Are you kidding me? What do you mean why? You know we're hunters...and we know what you are too."

Gaybe snorted and mumbled under his breath, "Doubt it."

Sam glared. "Oh yeah? Trickster ring any bells for you?"

Gaybe smirked and looked up at the clouds above them. "Hm, yea...it rings some bells. People tend to call me that."

"This isn't a joke!" Sam fought to keep his voice from screaming at the supernatural being in front of him so Dean or his dad wouldn't hear him if they came out of the motel room. "My family is going to kill you!"

Gaybe crossed his arms and leaned closer to Sam so he could look directly into his eyes.

"And why do you care? Hasn't your dad convinced you that I'm a murdering monster yet?"

An icy feeling settled in Sam's stomach. The small hope that he had been trying to keep alive that there were 2 monsters in this town and Gaybe wasn't the one killing people, but just an innocent creature in the wrong place at the wrong time was extinguished with his words and he choked on his response.

"So...you did kill the janitor? And those college kids?"

The smirk never seemed to leave Gaybe's face. "Yep. And hundreds- thousands of others."

Time seemed to slow down as the silence stretched between them. Sam wanted to punch that smug look right off the Trickster's pale face and beat him until he swore he'd run away somewhere safe and never kill anyone again. As the moments ticked on Sam knew he'd have to make quick decisions, wither he wanted to run to the room and alert his dad to come kill Gaybe, or protect the ginger being by finding a way to convince him to seek safety away from anyone with the last name Winchester, himself included.

The choice was surprisingly easy.

"Run away. Please, you have to get out of here." Sam grabbed ahold of Gaybe's shoulders and the look in his eyes showed that he clearly didn't think that was the choice Sam was going to make.

"Hunters will just keep tracking me Sam. No matter where I go." His voice was quiet, it sounded almost defeated and Sam wasn't going to have any of that attitudes. He'd been raised in a family that didn't know the meaning of giving up and that included when it came to protecting people. In this case, even if they weren't human.

"So lay low for awhile...or better yet! Stop killing people for crying out loud! Why do you have to kill people? Just for fun?"

Gaybe looked at him, completely serious.

"Yep."

Sam opened his mouth to quietly continue to argue and Gaybe cut him off by placing a finger on his lips and leaning close.

"Look Sam, you follow your dad's orders to protect humans...well, so do I. In a way. My dad loves humans...but my two older brothers aren't doing a damn thing to protect them and let me tell you - my little brother HATES you guys... sooooo you guys gets to deal with me instead. Dysfunctional, yes, but here and doing something is better than sitting on my high throne doing nothing." He sighed and looked much older, much more stressed than any teenager should be, as if he were thousands of years old. "It's not enough just to protect the innocents Sam. You have to take out the people that would hurt them or it'll never stop. Humans can be monsters too."

In the distance Sam heard Dean calling his name and cringed. No doubt his older brother had found his shoes and jacket still in the motel room by now and had come out to find his little brother. He looked up at Gaybe, eyes wide and Gaybe simply shrugged.

Powerful or not, he was eventually going to punch the crap out of this Trickster.

"What are you shrugging for! I know you can teleport so go! Now!" Sam whispered harshly.

Gaybe leaned down slightly, pressing his lips to Sam's quickly before vanishing mid-kiss and leaving Sam feeling tingly all over from more than just the cold, as if he'd just licked a wet battery. He finally pulled his arms into the sleeves of the hoodie Gaybe had left behind and stepped out into the bright morning sun to face his brother.

SPN SPN SPN

To say John Winchester was pissed was an understatement. Gaybe seemed to have heeded Sam's desperate warning and toke off on a leave of absence from his killing spree. Three days had gone by and the town seemed peaceful again with no sign of anything supernatural lingering in its darkened alleys. There were no trails or track or any hints as to where the Trickster vanished too, although Sam would bet that he was taking a vacation in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory if it existed. Hell, even if he it didn't exist he could probably just create it anyways.

The only thing happening had been going on for a little over half a year now in the town. Teenagers would go missing and never turn back up. Nothing matched a pattern for anything supernatural but it gave the Winchesters something to focus on while their search for the Trickster was turning up dead ends.

The kids were anywhere between 13 - 17. Some were tall, some were short. Some had brown hair, some had blonde. Some had good grades, others were drop-outs and they were all from different schools. No pattern, nothing to sync them all together and nothing to lead on to what or who was taking them without a trace. The only thing for sure, which Sam was grateful for, was that whatever was taking these kids, if defiantly wasn't the Trickster.

John spent most of his days out questioning people on the streets and scouring newspapers for the tiniest detail. His agitated non-stop pacing was driving both Sam and Dean up the wall although Dean did a much better job at hiding it, leaning against the headboard of the motel bed with his arms crossed across his chest.

It was early Monday morning and Sam had missed almost an entire week of school thanks to his dad's obsessions. Dean didn't mind of course, even though his most recent ginger haired girlfriend had dumped him for not caring to call her while he was ditching school.

It'd taken hours of arguing until Sam's throat felt as raw as his burnt out nerves and emotions but he'd managed to convince his dad to let him return to school with the help of Dean who'd been sick of hearing them fight. The argument was more of John taking out his anger at the idea of a hunt getting away than him actually caring if his youngest son attended classes in the morning anyways. It was 9:50am by the time Sam ran out the door, glad for the two cups of coffee he had sent rushing through his system since he woke at 6am to keep his energy up for the long jog.

Dean's offer to drive him fell on deaf ears as the door slammed shut. It'd be quicker for Dean to drive him and much less exhausting but Sam wasn't in the mood to be trapped in any form of four walls with any of his family any longer. He loved Dean, respected him and was grateful for such an awesome big brother even if he did have a bad habit of picking him up to sling him upside down over his shoulder like a 'sack of potatoes' but there was only so much time you could spend with someone without going crazy. And he was always surrounded by his family, in a car or small motel room.

He slowed down to a walk as he could see the high school's brick building looming in the distance. All he'd have to do was take a shortcut through the parking lot of a strip-mall, cross the road and he'd be on school property. He debated for a short moment stopping by the grocery store that was in the middle of the strip of small businesses, clearly larger than the others with a sign that loomed over the rest of the rooftops but pushed the idea out of his mind. He was running late enough even though he was pacing himself at a brisk walk, keeping his breathing in check to keep himself from sucking too much of the frigid air into this lungs.

His mind was focused on Gaybe. While he was glad he had vanished quite literally into thin air, he missed his smirk that always hinted at knowing an inside joke and his voice that always seemed so comforting and gentle even while he was admitting to murder. There was just something about him that he seemed to be able to trust him beyond all logic.

He had mentioned having a father and at least three brothers which meant that there must be other Tricksters out there and he silently wondered if the day would ever come where he would find himself face to face with him again, or one of his brothers that he seemed to have a distaste for from the way he talked about them. But he'd also said his dad loved humans...so maybe they really weren't all bad. John Winchester may have called him a monster, but that just made Sam wonder how many of the supernatural creatures that his family and dozens of other hunters hunted and killed were actually monsters, or just simply different from humans.

The famous Spiderman line crept into his mind 'With great power comes great responsibility.'

Sam was so lost in thought walking through the parking lot debating his sexuality or even his preference in species that he never heard the door of the white van he'd just passed quietly slide open as a middle-aged man jumped out. He never saw the shadow of the man as he approached him from behind or smelled the chloroform on the rag before it was too late and pressed tightly over his nose and mouth, leaving Sam dizzy, feeling like he was drowning as his eyes rolled up into his head and his world faded to black.

End Chapter 3


	4. Coming Undone

Warnings: yaoi SLASH GabrielxSam, sensitive subjects such as blood torture fetishes, and pedophilia

Chapter 4: Coming Undone

When Sam cam to the first thing he noticed was the dull throb of a massive headache that accompanied a strangled feeling in his throat. He forced himself to cough trying to relieve the tension and only ended up gagging as his eyes fluttered open to adjust to the darkness surrounding him.

A dim light that hung overhead cast eerie shadows on the boxes and various abandoned furniture stacked around him. As he tried to sit up he realized that his hands were cuffed together and chained to the wall behind him and his wrists hurt as the thin metal slid over his bruised skin. His whole right side ached as if he'd been unceremoniously thrown on the floor and he winced visibly as he tried to move his shoulder that felt dislocated.

A soft groan escaped his lips as he strained to remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was debating breakfast as he was walking to school late, and then he blacked out. Hadn't there been something else? Something extremely important? His mind nagged at him to remember the small details as he looked around the room. There were no windows for him to see how many hours had passed, if it was even still daylight. He'd left the motel close to 10 so that left at least 5 and a half hours that his dad and Dean wouldn't even think of looking for him. And who knew how much longer before they actually found him...if they could.

The metallic click of a lock and the creak of a door accompanied by footsteps alerted Sam out of his downward spiral of thoughts as his young hunter instincts sent off alarms to back himself against the wall, ready to fight however he could against whatever was entering the room.

A blonde, balding man with streaks of grey in what little hair he had left shuffled into view, his shoulders slouched and looking formless in the lumpy old-fashioned button-up sweater he wore over tan slacks. His eyes were small and beady against bags under his eyes and his nose was pointed almost like a beak.

"Your awake...oh. Oh my, your awake." the man mumbled more to himself than Sam, his fingers twitching together as he looked over the young boy handcuffed and chained on the floor below him. "Oh...oh so good your awake. Good, good. Very good." He nodded constantly and Sam wished his head would just bob so much it'd fall off his neck with his abnormally large adam's apple already.

The man shuffled to Sam, his feet never seeming to leave the floor, just scooting across it like a dog's butt on carpet when it had worms although his man reminded Sam more of the worms in the butt than any dog he'd never met and he pressed himself back into the cold bricks as far as he could go, ignoring the protesting, stabbing pains in his shoulder and just wanting as much distance between him and this worm of a man as possible.

"Shhhh, sh, sh shhhh." The man whispered, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke his greasy fingers against Sam's cheek who retaliated by snapping his teeth at him much like a rabid dog and sending his best glare.

His tactic worked for a second as the man jerked his fingers away. He stared at Sam, tilting his head this way and that before starting to hum a melody to a song that Sam didn't know and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. With amazing speed and strength that Sam wasn't expecting, he lunged at the teen, grabbing his roughly to shove the cloth into Sam's mouth to tie it behind his head as Sam struggled underneath him, bucking his body in desperation and kicking his legs, trying to dislodge the adult from on top of him.

The man tied the knot and sat back to admire his work that was glaring daggers up at him with hatred and frustration hiding the pain and fear that filled those hazel eyes. He soothed back Sam's bangs out of his face, gripping his shoulder tight to hold him still as Sam tried to jerk away from his touch.

"Shhhhh. What's your name little one?" He tilted his head as if listening although Sam said nothing. "Clint? Why hello Clint, I love that name." He nodded, his gaze wandering off around the room. "Clint Eastwood was one of my favorite actors...I grew up on his movies. My name? I'm Regan. Not named after the President, oh no no no..." He trailed off, his eyes landing on Sam's body once more as he licked his lips and petted the side of Sam's face, a bit roughly like someone would a dog.

Regan leaned over close to his face making Sam cringe, wanting to get away as the man that was so close he could smell the putrid smell of cigarette smoke on his breath making him want to gag. He heard Regan inhale deeply through his nose as he rubbed his face against Sam's head, smelling his hair and Sam almost gagged on the sweaty cloth in his mouth anyways.

Surely his dad or Dean would show up soon. Regan was clearly the man who had been abducting the missing teenagers although Sam really didn't want to think about what he had done to them - what he was going to do to him. But they had been researching this case for almost a week...surely they'd have a lead by now. And on top of Sam's absence, which they were sure to have noticed by now, he was sure that one of them would bust in through that door any second to save him from this creep. But the door remained silent as the rest of the house and all he could hear was Regan's shaky breath close to his neck, warm and making his skin crawl.

This was far different from the last time he had been in this situation, and Sam focused on his memories of Gaybe as an escape from this disturbing reality. Gaybe, who was safe somewhere far from his hunter family. Gaybe, who had sent unknown thrills through his body when he had pressed him up against the wall. Gaybe, who wasn't even human but felt so right.

Unlike this very moment that felt oh so wrong in oh so many ways that Sam couldn't even concentrate on anything else anymore as he felt Regan's hand sliding down his stomach.

"Don't worry Clint, don't worry. I'll be gentle. I'm always gentle." Regan smiled, reveling yellowish teeth and pulled a switchblade knife out from his pocket, flicking it open.

Sam increased his struggles in an attempt to free himself and get away when he saw the weapon, wondering how the hell a knife could be considered gentle and exactly how unhinged this guy was in the head. His eyes pleaded with the door to open and reveal Dean to his rescue but it remained stubbornly shut, mocking his only hope for escape. His family seemed to like close calls and swooping in only at the last second but that last second was gone as Regan lifted Sam's shirt, exposing his stomach and dug the blade of the knife into the soft skin above his hip, tracing it down to the hem of his pants, red flowing from the wound as if the knife were a paintbrush and the red were merely paint, and Regan, the twisted artist was using Sam's body as a canvas. Sam screamed through the gag, writhing in pain and jerking at the chains once again, causing the handcuffs to cut deeper into his skin and cause blood to flow from there as well. He didn't care, he'd gladly chew his arm off if it meant he could get out of this situation as the knife penetrated his skin once again, this time just above his navel, dragging the blade across his stomach.

Regan lowered his mouth to the bloody wounds on Sam's stomach that he'd cause and ran his tongue over it, tasting the red liquid and smearing it across Sam's torso as he trailed his mouth upwards. The knife in one hand, he slashed at Sam's shirt, trying to rip it off of him for better access and accidentally cut Sam, deep on the neck and another long slash diagonally from the collarbone to the nipple.

Sam closed his eyes in agony, choking on his own screams as he felt the metal pierce his skin over and over again. The darkened room was starting to spin as Sam tried to focus his eyes on anything but Regan, his body floating in-between pain and numbness. Everytime he looked down all he could see was red all over his body and absentmindedly wondered how much blood he'd have to loose before he blacked out, hoping it would be soon. His body involuntarily jerked as Regan bit down hard on his nipple, prying another muffled scream from the young hunter.

Sam's hazel eyes rolled up, staring at the ceiling, his breaths coming in short gasps as he felt his consciousness slowly ebb away. He never saw or heard a sound as he felt a soft gust of wind blow through the room and suddenly a sickening, wet, explosion as red over-toke his vision and he felt something that felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of warm clam chowder on him.

The smell of coppery blood coated the room in an instant and Sam shook his head, trying to make sense of what just happened. He felt something sticky and heavy on his leg and looked down. He wished he hadn't. What must have been Regan's arm at one point lay in pieces across his leg, and as Sam scanned the room he saw other various body parts, skin, clothing, intestines... all laying in thick puddles of blood. His own body was completely coated in blood and he fought to keep down his vomit, so he wouldn't choke on it thanks to the gag still in his mouth.

His vision swam as someone crouched down infront of him and he felt a hand on his cheek, wiping away the blood with a gentle touch. The pain started to fade as Sam forced his hazel eyes to focus on olive green eyes infront of him full of concern.

Gaybe.

Gaybe's lips were moving but no sound was coming out as a buzzing noise Sam associated with passing out over-toke his hearing. He could feel Gaybe's hands on his shoulders but it felt like he was drowning, floating away from him. The last thing Sam saw before he let darkness and the peace of unconsciousness take over him once more was Gaybe, his pale skin luminescent in the dark room, almost as if he were literally glowing with power.

SPN SPN SPN

When Sam came back to, he was laying on a foreign bed with a dark red feathered comforter, his head resting on Gaybe's lap, who was sitting with his back against a headboard running his fingers through Sam's hair.

"Gaybe?" Sam asked, he couldn't possibly be here but this felt too real, too good, to be a dream.

"The one and only." Gaybe smirked down at Sam, filling him with relief. There wasn't any creature alive that could mimic that smirk that Sam had found himself slowly falling in love with.

"How are you..How are you here? Where am I? How long was I...?" Sam trailed off after spilling out a line of questions, not knowing which to pick first as Gaybe rolled his eyes.

"One and two." he held up his fingers in a rock on position. "I'm here because this is my apartment. Your in my apartment. On my bed more specifically. My...very comfy bed. Right?" He waggled his eyebrows and it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes, sitting up and realizing that he felt perfectly fine. He looked down at himself, his t-shirt was back in one piece and everything was clean and blood free. He lifted up his shirt to reveal the gashes that Regan had cut into him completely gone and healed as if they'd never been there. He quickly pulled his shirt back down as he noticed Gaybe tilting his head for a better view.

"Pervert."

"Yep." Gaybe grinned, not even trying to deny it. "Oh, and three, you were only out to la la land for 2 minutes at most. I mean come ooon, give me some credit. I'm quick." Then he added quickly. "But not THAT way. I'm nice, long and slooow in THAT way." He nudged Sam in the ribs gently as Sam sat up to sit beside him, leaning heavily against him. Gaybe wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders, pulling him closer and he allowed himself to nuzzle closer to the warmth and safety of the Trickster.

"I thought you were gone..." Sam mumbled.

Gaybe nodded thoughtfully.

"I was. I mean, you all but shoved me out the door. Or in our case, the ally. A guy can take a hint ya know."

"How did you know to...?" Sam trailed off unsure of how to word his question. How did you know that he needed him? How did he know where he was to come and save him when Dean or his dad couldn't?

"I was bored...and missed your pretty little face so I thought i'd pop into school one more time to harass you since your so cute when you get all flustered and angry." That remark earned him a soft punch on the arm and a small embarrassed smile from the young Winchester. "But you weren't there...or the motel...so I just tapped into your aura and went to you."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Tap into my aura?" He considered the supernatural being before him carefully. "...What are you?"

"I'm the trickster, didn't we go over this already? Yea...I think we did." Gaybe answered his own question. "Remember? The other day? You were all freaking out about the janitor and what not."

"Yea...I remember..." Sam trailed off again. Granted, he didn't know anything about Tricksters, there was just something more to Gaybe than he was letting on. "Your more like a guardian angel than a tricky bastard though..." Sam whispered, not knowing how close to home his words truly hit.

Gaybe smiled, a real smile in place of his constant smirk.

"That's sweet..." He whispered back. Leaning close to Sam and gently taking his lips into his own for a soft kiss that had both of them holding their breaths, breaking contact only when they had to breathe again.

Sam hesitantly reached out, placing his hands on Gaybe's chest and gripping his t-shirt tight like if he let go he'd vanish into thin air. And considering what he was and his powers, that was possible. He just wanted to hold onto this moment, this person forever. But knowing his family business, he knew they'd have to part ways again. It was hard enough to fight out the words to push him away last time. They say the second time you do something it was supposed to be easier but the words died in his throat before he could even start moving his lips each time.

"Will I see you again?" He chose an easier set of words instead, hoping this wouldn't be good-bye forever.

Gaybe swayed back and forth uneasily, refusing to make eye contact.

"Yes...and no. Come on Sam, look at us. Your a hunter. I'm a ...hmmumphmrhm. I can't stop what i'm doing and you can't stop what your doing."

"But you asked if I even wanted to be a hunter! What..what if the answer was no?"

Gaybe shook his head. "I can't let you make that descion now."

"And why not?" Sam snapped.

Gaybe looked at him seriously. "Because you have a path to take...a destiny. And I can't interfere." He slid off the bed and stood, pacing around the front with Sam's hazel eyes tracking his every movement. Leaning against the bed post he sighed and crossed his arms. "Your young..and rash. Your making this choice based off me and I can't interfere with this. I just... the path your set on, the people your going to encounter...well let's just say i'm in my own little witness protection program...or more of a prince and a pauper story and i'm the prince living as a pauper right now. And my evil step-sisters can't know that i've switched to this life."

Sam shook his head, trying to make sense of the riddles. "But if I stay with you, I won't have to-"

"No." Gaybe cut him off. "You can't. You just...can't." He ran his hands through his bangs and looked up at the canopy above the bed instead of Sam's sad puppy dogs eyes wanting nothing more than to just curl up with the human on the comfortable bed with him in his arms. "And do you really want to leave your family?"

Sam thought for a second, nerves churning in his gut. "No...not Dean..."

Gaybe nodded and closed his eyes. "I know."

Sam closed his own eyes as well and toke in the silence. He could easily walk away from his dad and all these crazy life-risking hunts and the orders. But he couldn't abandon his older brother. Especially not like this. Dean would drive himself insane trying to find Sam and he couldn't stand the idea of hurting the brother that had always looked out for him.

"Why can't I see you again then? You came back this time." He asked quietly, wondering if the trickster could even hear him from where he stood at the end of the massive bed.

"You will." He continued before he could get Sam's hopes up though. "But you won't remember me."

"I'll never forget you." He swore.

Gaybe looked away sadly, his breath hitching slightly. "Yes you will." He cut Sam off as he was shaking his fluffy hair in protest. "You won't be able to help it...it's a side effect of me being, well...me. It may not happen for months...or years even. But i'll fade completely from your memory." He sighed and plastered a fake smile on his face, trying to laugh off the tense, depressing moment for something cheerier. "Just hope you don't shove a stake through me like most hunters do."

"I'm NOT going to be a hunter! I'm going to go to college, and be normal!" Sam shook his head, his bangs flopping around his face.

Gaybe smiled sadly. "I wish you could kiddo...wish you could." He walked back around to Sam's side of the bed. "But for now...you've got to go back."

Sam looked at the alarm clock on the small wooden table next to him and the numbers glowed 3:30pm. School was just now getting out and his dad and brother would never even have to know that anything out of the ordinary had ever happened to him.

Gaybe leaned over the bed, capturing Sam's lips once again for the last time and Sam lifted his hands, threading his fingers into Gaybe's hair and pulling him closer. The smell of chocolate and the taste of sugar overwhelming Sam's senses as Gaybe crawled back onto the bed to him, their bodies intertwining, holding each other close in a tangle of limbs.

With a snap of Gaybe's fingers that Sam never even saw coming the room flickered out of existance like a bad tv channel and Sam found himself standing outside of the motel room where he was currently staying, alone.

SPN SPN SPN

John was persistent on staying until the Trickster resurfaced, even after the splattered remains of local librarian Regan Kelso was found in his basement, along with proof of him being the serial kidnapper, rapist and murderer of at least 6 teenage boys. He had no idea his youngest son was among those numbers and Sam wasn't about to tell him otherwise and have him even more determined to stay in town. He wanted to get far away from here, Hoggard High, the ally outside of the motel and anything and everything else that painfully reminded him of Gaybe.

It'd been another week since he'd last seen Gaybe. The trickster was clearly keeping his word against Sam's protests to stay away. Dean and his dad couldn't figure out why he wasn't thrilled to be staying in town this long since he was usually fighting nail and tooth to stay in one school for as long as possible and Sam wasn't going to even try to explain. He'd just come home from school each day and hole himself up on his bed with as many lore books he could find trying to research more about Tricksters or other creatures Gaybe could be. His dad just thought he was trying to willingly help research and was actually a bit disappointed when Caleb called him, asking for his immediate help on a hunt up in Michigan.

Stuffing all the research away in a folder for later use, the three Winchesters packed up the truck and Impala, getting ready to head out to Michigan. Sam rode shotgun with Dean as usual, following their dad's giant black truck out of town.

Sam merely stared out the window. Just because his dad had given up didn't mean he would. He'd find out everything he could and track down Gaybe, forcing him to stay this time. If he could go to college and be normal, not a hunter, there'd be no reason for them to not be together. He wouldn't feel obligated to hunt him for just being supernatural anymore and with his experience he'd be able to help hide and protect him from other hunters - not that Gaybe needed his help. And if Sam could get away from doing what his family wanted him to do, there was no reason Gaybe couldn't. Maybe he could convince him to stop killing humans for his own dad's approval or whatever was going on behind closed doors.

The scenery flew by the closed glass window in blurs of green and blue. As they came up to the ramp to the highway he could see the giant green sign bidding farewell to the town of Wilmington. Dean slowed down at the red light and Sam could see someone leaning against the sign casually as if waiting for the bus. He was tall, probably in his mid-20s, a few years older than Dean with slicked back dark ginger hair and his hands in his pockets. As the light turned green he turned his head to look back at Sam and smirked, making Sam's heart leap into his throat as he recognized olive green eyes. He quickly jumped and spun around in his seat to get a better look before they drove away but he was gone - as if he'd vanished into thin air.

"What? What is it?" Dean asked, flicking concerned green glances at his little brother who was backwards on the leather seat of the classic car.

"Nothing..." Sam mumbled sadly, turning back around in his seat and slouching down, no longer wanting to watch the passing scenery outside the car. As he lowered himself, his feet kicked his bookbag, causing it to tumble over on the floor boards and several books to fall out.

Weird...Sam thought as he bent over to shove the items back into his bag, swearing that he had zipped it shut before. Reaching in the bag, his hand brushed something soft he didn't reconize and he slowly pulled it out, squeezing his eyes shut to fight back tears as he realized what it was. In his lap he tightly grasped a faded grey Star Wars shirt.

_You remind me of the Gaybe. What Gaybe? Gaybe with the power. What power? Power of the voodoo. Who do? You do. Do what? Remind me of the Gaybe..._

End

Sorry for the slightly sad ending but there were only so many ideas I had on how to end this and still make the episode Tall Tales, where Gabriel resurfaces still make sense and this was the happiest that didn't involve Sam immediately loosing his memory or John shoving a stake through Gaybe.

Thanks for reading. Special thanks to YellowBulma and everyone who has favorited or alerted this fic. Your comments single handedly inspire keep me writing and it means alot to me that you follow my work.


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